Todays Nonsense

The pickering of pickle pie Of pickle as pickled could be My liver to be exact Pickled to disbelief Of proportionately exorbitantly larger than it could be But what is it To be exactly like me In all fathoms of to be Inwardly moving through scale topple less trees Green In envy I see Far reaching I see Resting on top of my tree But what about pickles that echoes and bellows below All in time please I’m in need of my yellow phone To sanction the life out of those Those are to be known Unfortunately for those who can’t seem to follow the pickle by the sea I have nothing to give you but a tireless rant of nonsense So follow your foe or foe’s As I will stay here on top of my tree eating my pickle pie